


Linger, Catch, Finicky, Honey

by Marvinetta



Category: Terra Nova (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 14:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvinetta/pseuds/Marvinetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short fics from the <a href="http://terranovafanfic.livejournal.com/81366.html">Friday One Word Challenge</a> at the Livejournal Terra Nova Fanfic community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Linger

**Author's Note:**

> Beta services by Crystalkei for "Linger". Any mistakes in the others are my own. Spoilers for the season finale.

He's ashamed to admit it, but he's turned into a coward somewhere along the way. Sometimes he'll talk himself out of that line of thinking, and put it in military terms. It's just not smart to go into certain battles without enough intel. And in regards to this particular battle, he's sorely lacking in the intel department. He comes up with his plan while he's stuck OTG for over a week, lucky to even have communication with the colony.

When he finally walks through the gate, his bike completely out of charge and heavy as he pushes it the last few feet, Wash walks up and starts scanning him for injuries. He wants to think it's more than just habit, that maybe she's as worried about him as he gets when she's the one OTG. Her fingers brush just underneath a cut on his neck and he nearly forgets the plan, the urge to touch her nearly overwhelming him.

But then her fingers are gone just as fast, and she's digging for medical supplies while lecturing him. He lets himself be scolded as she cleans up his cuts and scrapes, and smiles as she treats each minor nick like it's potentially fatal. Here in the privacy of the Command Center, he imagines that her fingers stay a second too long. Her eyes are softer, despite the bite in her words at his recklessness.

When he squeezes her shoulder and grins, she smiles back. He assures her that he's fine, and says that he'll try not to do it again. Eventually she laughs and shakes her head, and doesn't mention his hand still on her arm as she changes the topic to what's happened while he's been gone.

He starts cataloging all these little incidents. Secretly hoping they add up to what he wants. It's his thumb reaching out to remove a smudge of dirt from her face. It's her fingers wiping away his blood. It's smiles that stay once all the laughter has faded. Just when he thinks he has enough intel to make a sound strategic move, everything falls apart.

Watching from afar drives him crazy. Not being able to stop it nearly kills him. Finding her alive makes him wonder if he's dreaming or dead. The first smile she gives him after the dust settles makes it hard to breathe.

Finally, when she's back on her feet and standing next to him on the balcony, watching repairs, he makes his move. Linking his fingers through hers silently, he holds his breath until her fingers tighten around his. They share a small smile and a quiet laugh at the simple gesture, so long overdue. They stand that way until someone calls her name and she squeezes his hand one last time before jogging down the stairs.

The feel of her fingers entwined with his lingers for the rest of the day, tiding him over until he can touch her again.


	2. Catch

She'd been alternating between teasing him and nagging at him the entire week he had the flu. When he was sitting somewhere, looking not busy, she enjoyed mocking his sniffles and complaints. When he tried to avoid her and get things done out of his office, she yelled at him until he finally caved and went back to this desk. He didn't have the energy to put up too much a fight, and she knew it.

He'd been symptom free for almost 24 hours and was gloating at his desk during a morning debriefing when Wash let out a very loud, very unladylike sneeze. The look on her face when she realized she'd caught his flu was priceless, and he couldn't help but laugh. The look on Shannon's face when Wash threw her plex at her Commanding Officer and stormed out of the meeting without permission was even better.


	3. Finicky

He thought it was a game. When he first started staying over at her place, he'd leave his toiletries bag on the sink vanity, in easy reach for when he got up in the morning. Every morning however, it would be off the vanity, and tucked away in the small cabinet behind the mirror. Which was impressive because it was full to the brim with tiny bottles and hair paraphernalia.

“Hey, Wash, why do you keep hiding my bag?” He'd finally asked, about to brush his teeth after digging his bag out of her surprisingly cluttered cabinet.

“I don't want anything on the vanity.” She shrugged and kept making the bed. “I don't like seeing clutter.”

“Have you seen your cabinet?” To make his point, he opened the door and two small bottles fell into the sink with a clatter.

“It's hidden from view, it's different. And keep leaving your bag on the vanity and I'll start putting it in more creative places.” Her tone held no humor as she shoved everything back into the cabinet and shut the door firmly. He smirked at her as something clunked against the door, and she just narrowed her eyes at him before leaving the room.


	4. Honey

“We need a bee keeper.” Wash blurted out as they carefully lowered a new sheet of glass onto his desk frame.

“Yeah, I'll get right on that.” Taylor gave her an odd look as he adjusted the clamps to keep the glass in place. “Can't believe those bastards broke my desk.”

“Seriously, we need a bee keeper.” Placing her hands all over the new glass, Wash grinned as he pulled out a rag and started to wipe up all her hand prints. “I miss having honey in my tea. There's plenty of bees. Therefore, there must be honey somewhere. We just need someone to go get it.”

“I don't even know what all would be required to set up a bee colony, or if these bees even make edible honey.” Grabbing her wrists to keep her from adding more hand prints to his desk, he sighed at the expectant look on her face. The face he hadn't expected to see again when they retook the colony. “Fine, I'll talk to Malcolm and ask him about getting you some bee vomit.”


End file.
